


Dinner and a show

by Baryshnikov



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dinner, Flirting, Infidelity, M/M, chocolate cake
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-08-08 09:18:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16426643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baryshnikov/pseuds/Baryshnikov
Summary: Abraxas takes Tom out to dinner





	Dinner and a show

**Author's Note:**

> Basically just a 1,700 word conversation over dinner, so sorry.

The restaurant was nice, tasteful, expensive, warm lighting casting shadows where shadows should be and enough corners to make it feel private. Tom was also nice, tasteful and expensive, at least to Abraxas he was. It had taken a very long time of convincing to get Tom to come out to dinner, and if he hadn’t shown up at Tom’s door, he doubted Tom would have come at all. Instead preferring the comfort of nothing and no one.   
He watched as Tom picked at his food, fork pushing the beef around the plate.  
“Aren’t you going to eat?” said Abraxas, pausing over his own plate for a moment.   
“I prefer my meat a little deader.”   
“I never thought you were squeamish, Tom.”   
Tom glared, “I’m not, I just prefer not to have to worry that my dinner is going to get up and walk off.”  
Abraxas rolled his eyes, the beef was perfect: very rare, the surface area brown and the centre pink and soft and so delicately flavoured. “The rawer you can eat it, the better the quality,” he said placing another piece onto his tongue.   
Tom put down his fork, and watched him, “good for it.”  
“May I remind you who had the decency to take you out to dinner?” said Abraxas taking a long sip of his wine. He had been trying to get Tom to come with him for weeks and now that his wife was on her little holiday, it had seemed like the perfect opportunity.  
“You dragged me out, actually, I was quite happy,” said Tom with just a hint of spite, enough to make Abraxas smirk.  
“Yeah ‘happy’ in that hovel of rent room you seem to like.”   
Tom’s room was frankly appalling, it was always dark and always cold, and Abraxas suspected it was damp whenever it rained. It was exactly the sort of place he wouldn’t be caught dead in. Tom knew that, and Abraxas rather suspected that was why he insisted on staying there, the be completely infuriating.   
“You forget, I’m working for a living, unlike some,” he said with a deliberate raising of his eyebrow, challenging Abraxas to rebuke him.   
“And what a bore that must be for you.”  
It was Toms turn to roll his eyes. Abraxas knew he had been avoiding him, that much was obvious. Always turning down his invitations to various activities anyone else would have jumped at: parties, banquets, dinners, holidays, none of them interested Tom. He wasn’t sure if Tom was doing it with the intention of making himself so much more irresistible, but that was definitely the result.  
“Give me one good reason why I should stay here?” Tom said, fingers tapping on the table, the sound dampened by the tablecloth.   
“You like me.”  
“I don’t,” he said too quickly.   
“You came when I called, didn’t you?”  
“Against my better judgement perhaps,” Tom said, taking the napkin from his lap.   
“Stay,” Abraxas said, although he didn’t make any movement. Tom paused, the way he said it was not as respectful as it should have been, but he wasn’t feeling respectful. They both knew dinner was just an excuse, an antecedent to the real reason he had invited Tom here.   
“Why should I?” he said, not getting up but not replacing the napkin either.   
“We haven’t had dessert yet.”  
“And what’s that going to be?” he said slowly, eyes raising to meet Abraxas’ own.  
“I have some ideas,” he said, unable to help a smirk. The whole game was far more fun when Tom decided to indulge him, that silver tongue suggestive rather than slicing like a knife through every suggestion.   
“Oh, I’m sure you do,” said Tom his eyes dropping again before slowly climbing back up, taking in every inch of Abraxas. He couldn’t help but straighten up a little, raise his chin and smile a little. Tom had such a wonderful way of undressing people with his eyes, anyone would feel hot under their scrutiny, and Abraxas was no exception. Lesser people would have felt self-conscious in Tom’s gaze, but not him, he rather liked the heat, the intensity of being the centre of attention.  
“You can have dessert if you finish your dinner,” he said carefully, although he doubted Tom would actually leave, he had always been unpredictable, even at the best of times. You could only push Tom so far before he would stand his ground. Tom looked him in silence, “I can anything I want?”  
“Anything,” he said running his tongue across his teeth. Tom swallowed and stabbed the meat with his fork, red oozed across the plate. Never backing down from Abraxas’ gaze he put the cut into his mouth and chewed, and swallowed, and repeated. He didn’t enjoy it, that was obvious by the curl of his lip and the frequency that he reached for his wine.   
He finished though. Silver cutlery placed neatly across a pink stained plate, a casual domination in his gaze.   
“Satisfied?”  
“Immensely,” Abraxas said, raising his hand. A waitress scuttled over and began to clear away the plates.   
She returned some moments later, holding dessert menus in her pressed gloved hands. She left them alone, understanding Abraxas was not someone who would be asking for recommendations.   
“What do you want then?”  
“Chocolate cake.”  
“You haven’t changed, Tom.”  
“Sorry, were you hoping for something more risqué?” said Tom, refilling his glass and taking a long sip,  
“I was hoping you were going to let me lick it off you.”  
Someone else might have choked but Tom didn’t bat an eyelid, he only put his glass down, throat swallowing slowly. He leaned in closer, “and why should I let you do that, Abraxas?”   
“Because you like it.”  
“We’ve already established that I don’t.”  
“Well I think you’re lying,” he said leaning closer, his leg reaching out the short distance under the table and scraping his leg against Tom’s.   
Why would you think that?” said Tom, not reacting.  
“I know you, Tom, I know what you like.”   
They both knew it was true, both knew Abraxas was the only person who knew anything about Tom and the only one who ever would.   
Tom almost smiled and glanced across the room before sitting back in his seat, “and what do I like then?”  
Abraxas smiled, it was always a good sign when Tom took it upon himself to initiate the conversation, a small sign that under all the hostility, he was enjoying it just as much as he himself was.   
“I’m not sure it’s the sort of conversation you can have over dinner, Tom; it requires a more – intimate setting.” Abraxas knew exactly which setting he would rather be having this conversation in, he wouldn’t pretend he hadn’t thought about it before, but getting Tom to come anywhere public with him was hard enough, let alone anywhere private, so he hadn’t breached the topic yet.   
Tom remained expressionless, thumb gently stroking the stem of his wine glass. “Is that so?” he said flatly, “I would have liked to hear what you think I like.”  
“Well I could give you a demonstration, but I think that might ruin your appetite, and I promised you dessert.”  
“What if I said we skip dessert?”  
“No, I insist, Tom.” Really Abraxas knew he should take the invitation when it arose, but he rarely got to talk with Tom so much, especially not when Tom was in the mood to talk back, so why spoil it?  
He watched as Tom ordered, watched how polite and charming he could be with people. It almost was sickening to watch him all but flirt with the waitress, listening to her recommendations, not discouraging her when she leaned over to point out certain combinations with her small gloved hands.   
“You’re unbelievable,” he said when she was gone.  
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realise you had exclusive rights over me Abraxas.” He paused for a moment, “does it make you jealous?”  
“No,” he said, though even he knew he was lying, and if he did, then Tom certainly did.  
“Oh really? You wouldn’t mind then if I invited her out for a drink?”   
Abraxas was sure he said it just to get a reaction, but he couldn’t help reacting. “Don’t you dare ask her anywhere.”  
Tom leaned closer again, “why not?”  
“Because –”  
The waitress returned smiling. Tom smiled back at her but said nothing. When she was gone he turned back to Abraxas, “I’ve upset her now, whose fault is that?”  
“I’ll give her a generous tip and say it was from you.”  
“How courteous.”

Abraxas was back to watching as Tom ate slowly, tongue running up the length of the fork, lips curling around the head, closing his eyes as he swallowed.  
“Are you sure you don’t want any?” he asked, fork outstretched. Abraxas shook his head. He was content just to watch, just to stare at Tom forever if he would let him.   
“Your loss,” Tom said sucking of the fork.  
“Do you have to do that?” he said after a while.  
Tom looked up at him with that wide-eyed innocence that could fool almost anyone. “Do what?” he said slowly, that special demure smile he reserved for people who were worth something to him.  
“Eat like that.”  
“How am I supposed to eat then, Abraxas?” he said putting his fork down for a moment and just looking at him. Abraxas swallowed, thoroughly unprepared for the way Tom was smirking, biting his lip, just a hint of his tongue on display. Tom’s tongue was good for many things.  
“I’m waiting.”  
“You know exactly how I expect you to eat.”  
“On my knees in your bedroom, I know.”  
“I wouldn’t make you do that.”  
“Wouldn’t you?” said Tom, fork scraping against the plate, licking the last drips of sauce off his fingers.   
A stillness hung between them, both waiting for the other to suggest what on the tip of both their tongues.   
“Will you let me take you home?” said Abraxas breaking the silence. It was more comfortable at his house, he could take his time, peel back every layer of Tom until he was a begging, mess.  
“I didn’t think I had a choice in the matter.”  
“I didn’t think you needed one.”

**Author's Note:**

> Still working on dialogue so thanks for making it through this complete wreck of an attempt


End file.
